


Ash

by Ori_Cat



Category: Chronicles of Ancient Darkness - Michelle Paver
Genre: Angst, Gen, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Nightmares, sibling relationships, there aren't any actual siblings here but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 03:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ori_Cat/pseuds/Ori_Cat
Summary: Parenting is hard. Being a hermit in the woods and having made very bad life choices does not make it any easier.





	Ash

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I just found this hiding in my drafts from like years ago and figured it was good enough to post.

He’s younger now, maybe thirteen summers, and he’s sitting on his sleeping-sack in the shelter watching Tenris rebind his knife. His brother tucks in the end of the sinew and tosses the knife a couple times. His expression turns thoughtful. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Hati asks. He hopes it’s not something significant that he’s forgotten and Tenris has suddenly remembered. 

Tenris sets down the knife and smiles wickedly at him. “This,” he says, seizes Hati, and digs his fingers into his ribs. 

It’s so unfair that he’s always been the ticklish one. “Stop!” he gasps in between laughter. “Please!” 

Tenris stops tickling him but stays where he is, one hand pinning Hati’s right wrist above his head. Waiting for him to make another move. “You know,” Hati pants, “if we’re going to wrestle we ought to go outside.” It’s not like they haven’t dragged tents down around them while playing before, and besides, he’ll be ready this time if they start again. He won’t let Tenris win twice. 

Tenris doesn’t seem to hear him. “I thought you loved me, Hati,” 

What? Where did that come from? “I do love you.” Sure, they don’t always get along, but they’re brothers, that’s to be expected. They’ve never had really _serious fights._

“Then why did you betray me?” he asks, suddenly, icily angry. Hati tries to shrink away but his brother leans even closer, forcing his shoulder uncomfortably into the ground. “You fought me at every turn. And don’t say you had something better to serve, I am your brother, what greater loyalty is there than that of kin?” he spits. “The whole Forest could have been ours." 

Hati’s arm is numb from the pressure, and he doesn't understand, what is he talking about, what has - 

Tenris sits back on his heels. “I hate you.” 

And before Hati can say anything, make any attempt to protect himself, Tenris grabs the knife and plunges it into his throat. 

He woke up choking and grabbing at his throat. No wound. He was alive. It hadn’t been real. Just a dream. 

No. Not quite just. 

He sat up and shoved the hair out of his eyes. The shelter suddenly seemed too small - he had to get out, had to breathe. He pulled on his boots and slipped out, taking care not to wake Torak. Although it wasn’t that big a concern; his son slept like a log anyway. 

The fire had almost burned right down. He swirled the ashes absently to let the air in and wake the orange glow up again. He could put some more branches on, if he was willing to stay up and watch. But that would also be more ash to bury in the morning, and that would take more time, more dug-up grass - 

No, it wouldn’t be worth it. He only wanted it to feel better. 

When he realized, he snatched his hand back and hastily wiped the ash off his fingers. Fool! And he’d wrecked his night vision, too, so he couldn’t look to see if anyone was watching. By the time he readjusted, any bird or beast any of them had sent would already be far away, gone to take the message back. _He lives, he has the stone, he has a child. Retrieve both. End it now._

Although he’d made it five years. At the time, he hadn’t even expected that. But now there was always the concern of next - could he survive five more years? Five after that? Maybe, then - Torak would be old enough, the Clans might have forgiven him - it would be safer. Not safe, exactly - he’d forgone safety the day he’d said yes - but better than this. At least, he hoped. 

“Fa?” He turned around to see Torak standing barefoot outside the entrance to the shelter, rubbing his eyes. “I woke up and you were gone.” 

“I didn’t go far,” he reassured. “I was right out here.” 

“But you shouldn’t be outside at night, Fa,” Torak told him seriously. “The monsters will get you.” 

Illogically, he wanted to laugh. The monsters would get him anyway, inside or outside, waking or sleeping, maybe tomorrow, maybe summers hence, but they would come someday. He’d known this since he decided to rebel, because he knew them. And when they finally found him, they wouldn’t be the great toothed-and-furred things his son imagined lurked in the darkness. They were human, fully, terribly human down to their bones. 

He could only hope it would be long enough, that he could get Torak ready before then. 

“Then let’s go back, shall we?” He forced a smile and took his son’s hand and led him back to the shelter. Torak scrambled in first and curled back up in his sleeping-sack. “But Fa?” he asked. 

“What is it, Torak?” 

“I just thought. If the monsters smelled you, they’ll know we’re in here!” 

Well, at least he wasn’t thinking solely in terms of sight. The trouble with being human was that you assumed everything else was like you, and navigated with eyes first and ears second and never with smell. He’d tried to make sure Torak understood this wasn’t the case. It was helpful to know for hunting _and spirit walking_ , his mind treacherously added. “I don’t think they’re that smart,” he said. “And if they are, I’ll protect you.” 

“Thank you,” Torak answered, already falling asleep. 

_If I can,_ was the addendum. He was horribly aware that he might not be able to - he could barely even protect himself. And if they - the real monsters, who had been his friends - came, they wouldn’t have any qualms about hurting Torak to get to him. They’d proven it before. He tried not to remember the last time. 

(...yes. He'd known. No-one had ever asked, but... well. He could live with it, that was the important thing.) 

It would be so much easier if he wasn’t alone. But the only ones who had stood with him were lost to death and worse, and he could never return to the clans. That had been his portion of the price he and Ellin had to pay, for Torak. That was one of the basic rules of magecraft, and frankly of life: everything had a price. You just had to hope it was one you were able to pay.


End file.
